


Paparazzi

by itspixiesthings



Series: Long Live the Emperor [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Emperor Hux, Gen, Idol Worship, Interrogation, Masturbation, OC, Other, Torture, Totalitarian State, adrenaline rush, civilian POV, criminal activity, illicit photography, thrill seeking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 17:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7649173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itspixiesthings/pseuds/itspixiesthings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under the rule of Emperor Hux, there is no freedom of the press. Citizens know and hear exactly what the government wants them to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paparazzi

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Hux Appreciation Month! This short story takes place within the same world as my Long Live the Emperor series, but can stand alone as well. This is a Civilian POV Idol Worship fic I hope you like it. The headcanon of Hux wearing white for interrogations belongs to roberthouse on tumblr :D

 

The room was filled with the sound of tap tap tapping as the youth's fingers flew over data pads, projection screens casting a blue light about the room. He was young, though old enough to resent being thought of as such. Mostly human in appearance, long brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, four small horns protruding from his brow that hinted at his Zabrak heritage. The room was dark, a small affair, well sequestered from the fear of prying eyes. He turned with eagerness towards the most prominent holo screen, showing a flickering image and a set of simple words in basic.  
  
_Files uploading to Holonet._  
  
The youth's eyes flitted from the uploading proclamation to the images themselves, a grin forming on his lips. This would garner him some followers, for certain. The images were more than rare; he didn't think anyone had gotten such _intimate_ material in years. Breathtaking shots of none other than the most powerful man in all of the Galaxy: _Emperor Armitage Hux_. People would pay a good amount of credits, he knew, for this sort of illicitly obtained content.  
  
His eyes danced with an excited glint as the files finished their upload, the droid hovering near the Holonet terminal whirring in confirmation. His handle flashed in alert.  
  
_Files uploaded to user account Torrent01._  
  
Now it was only a matter of time before the feedback started rolling in. There was a small, illegal community that was insatiable when it came to elusively shot images of First Order personnel, and shots of the Emperor himself... that was practically _gold_. A satisfied sigh left his parted lips as he leaned back in his chair, throwing his arms up to clasp his hands behind his head. These were good shots.  
  
In the iridescent blue of the holo projection stood the figure of the Emperor. Usually when making public appearances, the man dressed all in jet black, military and stern. But this was a far more fanciful arrangement. It was white, with a high collar reaching up his neck, and a long trailing cape in the back. The crown upon his head twinkled in the static image, and the boy's heart gave a flutter of appreciation for the way the white garments were stained through, splashes of colour darkening the front and the white of his gloves. He didn't think he had ever seen the Emperor in white before, and the effect was stunning. He swallowed, his throat constricting around a dry lump of longing.  
  
As the droid beeped and whirred at him about incoming messages via Holonet, his mind was already wandering.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The day was a hot affair, sun high in the sky, the pinkish atmosphere colouring the air around him. In all directions he looked, the compound in which he stood was stern and militaristic in nature. Cold steel, and Stormtroopers marching in clipped formation. He stood in the shadows, the scaled wall behind him. He had to be as secretive as possible to get as close as he wanted.  
  
He pushed the guest pass that had gotten him this far into the lapel of the dark First Order uniform. An illegally acquired costume of course, but who was counting his illegal actions at this point. He wouldn't be needing any longer a press pass for one _Gideon Strait_. He had left behind the group of legally approved members of the press in favour of more... _exciting_ endeavours.  
  
Pulling the First Order cap down on his head to shield his eyes, he felt his heart begin to race with that familiar flurry of excitement. Now he was just username Torrent01. A cocksure grin crept across his lips as he imagined the suspected consequences for his actions. If he was caught... there was no telling what exactly the First Order would do to him. There were rumours of course, but no firm sense of _knowing_ , except of course that it would be _unpleasant_. That's what made his query so _fun._  
  
“C'mon Icy.” The round blue and white painted droid gave a series of beeping noises in response, hastening to hover around his shoulders. The shutter lens clicked, adjusting as he went. IC-60 was a hacked Image Capture droid, modified to Gideon's needs. Namely, to access the Holonet while bypassing First Order connections and keeping it's contents secure. _Privacy_ was not a luxury most were afforded under Emperor Hux. It was a very small community of elite hackers who made up the underground of the Holonet. Gideon knew that just being in possession of such a droid was a capitol offence.  
  
And he aimed to add more counts to his criminal activity today.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He could hear the screams echoing through the hallways. They were stilted, short gasps of pain followed by murmured words and whimpering breaths. As he rounded the corner, looking down each length of corridor for troopers or First Order officers, the sounds grew louder and louder. Passing by the prisoner blocks he drew nearer and nearer to the source of the noise. The interrogation block.  
  
His heart was racing, beating loudly in his chest, the sound of blood rushing through his ears as he neared the picture window that looked into the chamber. He was acutely aware of the precarious nature of his current position, and fear raced through him, making his skin crawl and his pulse quicken. But more than that, he was _excited_. Slowly, carefully, he peered into the room.  
  
He had to suppress a squeal of glee, clamping a gloved hand over his mouth as the form of none other than the Emperor himself came into view. His back was turned to the window, facing towards an unfortunate prisoner strapped onto an interrogation table. His attention was focused with a rare intensity on his agitated guest. Gideon swallowed as he watched a white gloved hand caressing the side of the agonized face with an almost tender kind of touch.  
  
He had halfway disbelieved the rumors. The First Order had days ago stamped out a rebellion, nipping in the bud the beginnings of a new resistance force. That was hardly uncommon, although the details were always kept hushed as far as the public was concerned. But Gideon still remembered the shock that had traveled through him when he read via holomessage that the _Emperor himself_ was going to be there to administer the interrogation. He had been prepared to be disappointed, but there the man stood, in all of his cold, harsh glory.  
  
There was another scream as the Emperor looked on unfeelingly, his hand pressing a button that sent an electric shock through the man. If he was here himself, seeing to such a thing personally, it meant that the prisoner in question had resisted the loyalty officers attentions already. A high profile captive indeed. Gideon knew that Lord Ren might have been tasked with such a prisoner's mind, but Lord Ren was light years away, in a far distant sector of the Galaxy at the moment. So the Emperor was seeing to this _himself_. Gideon felt a rush of jealousy for the pained man strapped into the restrictions. To have the complete, undivided attention of the Emperor was no small honor.  
  
Gideon reached soundlessly for the small droid, operating in silence mode, that flitted about his shoulders. Grasping the handles on either side, he navigated it in front of him. He had to be careful, and the angles were not as good as he might have liked, but such was the way it was when you were taking illegal images. He could feel his heart palpitating, fluttering hard in his chest as he began to click a series of captures.  
  
The Emperor looked, in a word, _breathtaking_. Gideon had seen him before, had gotten image captures of him before, but never this close, and never in such a devastatingly _intimate_ setting. He could see from here the way his red hair was speckled with grey, could almost just make out the etchings of time on his face. He had a knife in hand now, casually drawing it along the prisoners collar bone, red spilling from a thin line snaking across the victim's skin. Gideon's tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he felt his own blood rushing, entranced at the sight. Emperor Hux at work was truly something to behold.  
  
The man laid out on the table was thrashing and whimpering, his screams almost like the desperate cries of a lover, and it made Gideon flush to hear them. He felt as though this was every bit as raw and personal as if he had managed to get captures of the Emperor with Lord Ren. Rumors abounded about the nature of the relationship the two of them shared, though nobody had yet been able to sneak into the Emperor's private quarters to obtain proof. But _this_... this made him giddy to watch, the etchings on the prisoner's skin compelling and beautiful. This was more intimate than any boudoir shot.  
  
The Emperor paused in administering the man's torment for a moment to speak to him, and Gideon could not make out the words, nor the whimpering man's response. There was something so raw and beautiful in this interaction, despite not hearing the words being exchanged. Expression said a lot, and he could just make out the almost caring smile on the Emperor's face as he murmured sweet nothings into his captive's ear, coaxing him gently as the blade cut deeper into his victim's flesh, blood staining his perfect white uniform. The screams were subdued and rough, the prisoner's throat gone hoarse from hours of use. There was blood upon his lips.  
  
_I should stop, now. I have enough material._ The thought went through his mind, but he was transfixed by the sight of the Emperor, majestic in white and unnerving enough to chill the blood in his veins. His grasp on the IC droid tightened as he drew in long, shaking breaths one after the next. He needed _more._ A shot of blood staining the man's gloves. The fear carved into the prisoner's face. The power his glorious Emperor wielded in this beautiful moment of suffering.  
  
As the shutter on the droid clicked again, Emperor Hux turned.  
  
In an instant, their eyes locked, and Gideon felt an almost electric jolt run down his spine as terror washed over him. He was looking right at him. Gideon let go the droid, letting it come to rest beside him again, and for a few agonizing seconds he looked directly into the cold, unfeeling eyes of the great Emperor Hux.  
  
Seconds too late, he pulled the hat down over his eyes to shield himself from the stern gaze. Grasping at the droid, he ran.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He knew why such image capture was illegal. As he swiped through the holo projections, each more gruesome than the last, the ghost of a wry smile danced on his lips. The droid was whirring, each sequences of electronic beeps conveying another message from members of the underground. People who wanted the holos he had and were willing to pay in credits. Not to mention the congratulations at his daring for having managed to procure them. It was a good feeling.  
  
Images like these were illegal because the First Order could not afford the citizens of the Galaxy to harbour any kind of negative thinking in regards to it's regime or it's leaders. Images like these could be bad for morale... the average citizen might find them _distressing_. Not to mention that while citizens might be denied the basics of privacy in the name of peace and order, the Emperor himself was above such restrictions. Official press were not given clearance for the palace, or for First Order military operations. Those were understandable rules.  
  
It wasn't that Gideon Strait felt himself _above_ such rules. It was more that he loved the thrill of _breaking_ them. Of seeing how much he could get away with. Knowing the gruesome punishments that might await him should he be caught only made the prize all the more enticing.  
  
Besides, the subject of his fascination was a source of endless inspiration. The Emperor was practically a deity in his mind, and Gideon worshiped him like a religious devotee. He remembered what life had been like in the Outer Rim planets before the First Order had overthrown the New Republic. He remembered the poverty his family had had to endure, the way his mother had looked at him sadly and told him how she wished to the stars there was more she could do for him. The First Order had revolutionized the Galaxy, and Emperor Hux was more than just an icon... he was a savior.  
  
Many others felt the same way Gideon did. Above the thrill and the adrenaline rush of escaping the law unscathed, or oftentimes not so unscathed, there was a genuine adoration for the Emperor and the First Order in their actions. He wanted images of his idol. And oh, how glorious these images were. He took a moment to just appreciate the Emperor's majesty.  
  
His face stern, icy eyes intent upon his prey. His hands clasped in front of him, blood staining the white of the fabric, beautifully contrasted. It showed up so well on the holo. The subject's lips pulled open in a silently captured scream as the Emperor drove a knife through his neck, only just missing the vital arteries that might have spelled his demise. And lastly, the Emperor's cold gaze as he looked for one moment directly into the lens of the IC droid.  
  
A shiver ran down his spine. If he had been captured, would it be him strapped down to the interrogation table? He closed his eyes and imagined it. Imagined what the Emperor might look like towering over him while he was immobile, powerless. To see his own blood staining that perfect white, angelic figure. What The Emperor's voice might sound like, brimming with restrained anger and indignation. _I do it because I adore you_ , Gideon might say, to beg, to implore and petition for mercy. Mercy that might not be found in the Emperor's skilled hands.  
  
Gideon leaned back in the chair, feeling his pants stiffen uncomfortably as his little fantasy awoke within him a sense of longing and desire. A flush coloured his skin as he tried to imagine what the Emperor might _do_ to him. Would be bleed him dry like he was in the process of bleeding that rebel? How long would it take, how long would it be drawn out? How much pain would he have received at the hands of Emperor Armitage Hux if he had been caught there, red handed?

 

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Halt in the name of the Emperor!”_

The corridors were loud with the sounds of blaster fire, the clamor of trooper armor, and the patter of running feet. IC-60's systems were running hot as the small droid flew beside Gideon, beeping with alarm at it's master.  
  
“I know! I took too many, I couldn't help myself!” Gideon remarked to the droid as he ran, dodging a bolt from a blaster with a grunt of exertion, his feet skidding him across the ground. He was breathing heavily as he rounded a corner, frantically looking around to remember the proper exit route. The droid gave a whirr of annoyance, reprimanding the young lawbreaker for his recklessness. This elicited a chuff of amusement from the rogue, and a wide grin across his face as he glanced at his companion from the corner of his eyes.  
  
“Oh don't be such a fuss pot. This is part of the fun!” He reached up to pull his hat down over his eyes again before he turned, hand at his belt to grab his own blaster, returning fire on his pursuers in record time. Before they had a moment to gather themselves he was off like a shot again, the droid following hot on his tail. He could feel the rush of adrenaline, the excitement pumping through his veins as he went, the thrill of the chase overtaking him. _This was what he lived for._  
  
The droid gave an few more beeps of censure, expressing it's frustration with his habit of courting danger. “You know, I don't remember programming you to be quite so sassy.” He spoke with a smirk between panted breaths as he ran, another blast barely missing him as he ducked down, rounding a corner with a leap, his feet dancing across the floors like an acrobat. His hand reached out to grasp the droid, pulling it with him out of harms way. “Whoa! Careful there Icy! You're carrying precious cargo, buddy!” The droid swung around, propulsion engines rocketing him past Gideon's arm as the criminal skidded to a halt.  
  
“Stop, felon! You are under arrest! Submit yourself to First Order authority!” Another wave of Stormtroopers came at him from the right, the trooper's voice stilted and mechanical from behind the heavy mask. As Gideon ducked around them one of the armored men made to grab hold of him, heavy hands reaching to grasp him by the wrist. IC-60 let out a flurried barrage of beeping protests before firing an electric shock directly at the trooper's hands, a cry of shock and pain going out from the white clad man.  
  
Return fire happened almost immediately, Gideon calling out in panic as the trooper shot a bolt of his blaster at his droid. He cursed under his breath as he delivered an elbow to the midsection of the nearest trooper, aiming directly for the weak point between the plating before he made a dive for the droid. The blaster fire caught him in the shoulder as he shielded the droid from the blow. Wincing and stifling a cry of pain, his body rolled to the ground and away from the mess of troopers before his blaster was out and returning the favour.  
  
IC-60 chirped in alarm, and he smiled at the sound. “Hey now. Like I said. Your irreplaceable. My shoulder will heal itself.” The playful grin on his face widened as he turned towards the exit. He might not be the strongest man in the Galaxy, but he prided himself on being a fast, slippery little motherfucker. His heart was pounding in his chest as he dodged and weaved his way through the last legs of the corridor, aiming for the quickest escape he could manage.

 

 

* * *

 

 

His hand slipped down his body to undo his belt, slowly pulling himself free of the restrictions. Ran his palm down the length of himself, gasping quietly as he stared intently at the image of the man staring back at him.  
  
Would Emperor Hux have dragged his knife along his skin slowly and tenderly the way he had the skin of the prisoner? Would he make him writhe and thrash on the table, begging him to stop, begging for forgiveness? And would he grant him mercy, or would he end his life then and there? Gideon could just picture what those gloved, bloodied hands might feel like wrapped around his throat. The feel of his own blood on those hands, wet against his skin. Cutting off his breath and his screams until he had none left. The image was too intoxicating to ignore, and he imagined his death at the Emperor's hands as a climax, a sudden release. Gideon's body stiffened as he felt his orgasm rush through him, felt his blood run hot and his head swim at he came over his hand.  
  
Illegal image capture was a win-win scenario of an extremists hobby. Either he would succeed, and come away from it with coveted holos of his idol and the afterglow of an adrenaline high, or he would fail, be captured, and endure the wrath of the First Order.  
  
Either sounded good to him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I LIVE for your feedback, so please let me know what you think! Your comments go a long way to motivate me to keep writing!  
> Please come find me on tumblr, too, at its-pixiesthings!


End file.
